


Can You Keep A Secret?

by hufflebuck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Issues, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy is a Good Friend, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Hufflepuff Reader, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knifeplay, LGBTQ Female Character, Loss of Parent(s), Major Original Character(s), Partying, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Underage Smoking, Wand Play (Harry Potter), draco malfoy is bad at a lot of things tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflebuck/pseuds/hufflebuck
Summary: I feel weird writing smut for fourteen year olds so they're all aged up three years. so first years are 14 and seventh years are 20. Kinda like if high school and college had a baby. Also some of the tags may or may not be true. I don't know where I'm taking this story yet, so i'm tagging based on ideas. That way if you have a specific trigger you don't have to be strung along only to find out last minute.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini/Original Female Character(s), Blaise Zabini/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You, Luna Lovegood/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	1. The Hogwarts Express

All around, trains whistled and bustled in and out of the station. Glimmering ticket in hand, you ran ahead of your brother to the platform listed. Cedric followed, trying to keep up without spilling the contents of his trolley. How he managed to keep everything contained, you would never know. Your owl, Canna, hooted at you as you slowed to a stop, right between platforms 9 and 10. “Cedric?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” you asked, glancing down at the piece of gold paper in your hand. “This says Platform 9¾, but I don’t see that number here.”

“It’s a secret Bee. Do you want to know the secret?”

“Yes!” you shouted. Being only 11 years old, everything seemed to excite you. The idea of being a witch, being able to go to school with your older brother, making new friends. It all just seemed, well, exciting.

“Alright.” Cedric pulled the trolley in line with the wall between the platforms. He grabbed your hand and told you to hold on with him. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, crouching down to your eye level. “On the count of three, we’re going to run at the wall. Don’t stop. Don’t let go of the trolley.” He watched as your eyes widened, dancing between fear and excitement.

“Are you sure this is safe? Aren’t we going to crash?”

“Do you trust me Bee?” he asked. You nodded and braced yourself for the possible impact ahead.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three,” you said together, breaking into a sprint. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for impact, but it never came. Cedric brought the trolley to a stop and you opened your eyes. A shiny red train was waiting for you, and was bustling with strangers wearing weird clothing, all saying goodbye to children with trolley’s like yours. “Woah,” was all you could say.

Cedric led you into the train. After unloading the trolley, owls and all, you both walked down the car and came to a halt in front of a particularly noisy compartment. He slid the door open and watched as you peered inside, only to be scooped up into a hug by someone. “You must be the famous Bridgette Diggory,” the mystery man said, setting you back down on the ground.

“Drew, stop, you’ll scare her,” Cedric said, a hint of teasing lacing his tone. “Bee, this is Andrew Finnegan. I believe his younger brother is also a first year.”

“Please, call me Drew. And yes, Seamus is a first year. He’s right down there,” Drew said, pointing towards the end of the car. “You can sit with him if you like, unless you’d rather stay here with us.” He gestured back into the compartment, filled with people in various colored robes.

“It’s up to you, Bee,” Cedric said.

“That’s alright, I think I want to try and make some friends.” You waved goodbye at everyone and started down the hall. Before you could make it far though, a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into a hug. “Cedric, I’ll be fiiiinee,” you said, squirming around in his embrace.

“I know, I know. Just promise me you’ll come to me for help if you need it.”

“I promise.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Fine. I pinky promise,” you said, locking your pinkies together. The two of you have been doing this since as long as you can remember; a symbol of your trust in one another. Cedric released you without another word and let you run down the train car, searching for the one Seamus was supposed to be in. It just occurred to you that you didn’t actually know what Seamus looked like, only that he was Drew’s brother. You came to a stop at a compartment and slid the door open. Staring back at you were three boys. Two of the boys were as plump as peaches, their fingers smeared with the chocolate they were snacking on before you interrupted them.

“Who are you, and why are you in our car?” the third boy asked, proving himself to be the leader of the group. His hair was a shade of silvery blonde, and though he tried to come off intimidating, he didn’t faze you one bit.

“Sorry for interrupting, I was just trying to find someone named Seamus,” you said, standing your ground at the boy, who was now glaring at you.

“Don’t know who that is,” the boy said sharply. “Now get out. This compartment is full.”

“You don’t have to be rude,” you said, ignoring the harsh stare he sent your way. “I wouldn’t want to sit here with you three anyways.” You slid the compartment door shut before the blonde could get another remark in.

The train shuttered into motion as you continued through the car. You noticed a bushy haired girl talking in the doorway of the compartment ahead and decided to check that one out. You reached the door just as she turned away, her knotted curls bouncing with each step. Before the door slid shut, you jammed your hand in and shoved it back open.  
“Hi, do either of you know who Seamus is?” you asked, eyeing the two boys who stared back. They didn’t seem as rude as the first boy, nor as disgusting as the other two.

“No, no idea who that is.” The red-haired boy said. “If you want, you can sit with us though.” Realizing you may never find this Seamus kid, you agreed, and slid into the empty seat beside him. “Ron Weasley,” he said, sticking his hand out to shake yours.  
“Bridgette Diggory. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand and turned your attention to the other boy; whose raven hair was a stark contrast from Ron’s. “And you are?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. My name’s Harry. Harry Potter,” he said. His name rang all sorts of bells in your head. The one who defeated You Know Who. Cedric used to read the newspaper articles your father kept to you, telling you all about how someone your age was able to do that. And though he is a legend in the wizarding world, he seemed very humble about it. It’s as though he didn’t realize what he had done, or rather didn’t want the attention from it.

In that moment, you decided not to bring his fame up. “Nice to meet you,” was all you said to him. Both boys sat in silence, waiting for you to bring his name up. After they realized you weren’t going to talk about it, they started chatting with you about classes, houses, and rumors about Hogwarts. Before long, the train was coming to a stop. The three of you hopped out of the train and gathered around a giant man, one whom Harry seemed to have met before.

Hagrid, the giant man, directed you all towards the boats on the lake. You, Ron, and Harry all climbed into a boat together, along with the bushy haired girl from earlier, who you learned was Hermione. The boats drifted towards the castle in the distant, illuminating the dark pond. Hundreds of stars littered the sky. Instead of listening to whatever Hermione was saying, you spent the boat ride daydreaming about life at Hogwarts. The sorting ceremony only prodded at the back of your mind: you had no time to worry about which house you’ll be sorted into, as your new home was waiting for you at the end of the lake.


	2. Three Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read the notes :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I'm a creative writing student and after reading nearly every Draco/reader fic on here i decided i would write my own. This is going to have everything that i envision as if i was at hogwarts, so i'm terribly sorry if you dislike one of the scenes i choose to write. 
> 
> With that being said, i am not going to use any trigger warnings, general warnings, or tags to reveal any of the scenes i will be writing about. I will let you know now that this will be rated r and there will be scenes that may make you uncomfortable. please read at your own warning. 
> 
> if you guys have any suggestions for some of Bridgette's (your!) hufflepuff friends, let me know! I want to write a couple OC's, such as her roommates and people she sits with at lunch and class, so comment and maybe one of you or your friends will be featured!
> 
> also sorry about any spelling or grammar errors :)

First year seemed only days ago, you thought, stuffing clothes into your suitcase. Your parents surprised you and Cedric with tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, and you couldn’t be more excited. It didn’t matter that there were only two tickets in the minister’s box, or that your dad decided Cedric would be the one to join him. You were going to be with the Weasleys, and honestly, you didn’t want it any other way.

You’ve known for a long time your dad favorited Cedric over you. At first, it really bothered you. In primary school, your father never attended any of your little league quidditch games, your talent shows, or your art fairs. After your mom passed, he didn’t even bother to show up at your graduation. It wasn’t until Hogwarts that you found a family who actually cared about you. When Ron found out you were staying at the castle for that Christmas, he owled his mom without telling you. That morning, you definitely weren’t expecting a gift from Mrs. Weasley under the tree that morning. Since then, you’ve always been welcomed at the Burrow for the holidays. It didn’t seem to matter to your dad that you weren’t there, as he just sent your presents to the Weasley’s anyways.

“Bridgette let’s go!” your dad yelled from downstairs. “The portkey leaves in 30 minutes, and we don’t want to be late.” Zipping your suitcase, you grabbed the handle and rushed down the stairs. Canna was already at the Burrow, along with your trunk. You were to be returning with the Weasley’s after the game, until it was time to leave for school.

After walking for what seemed like ages, you finally found the portkey, along with the Weasley’s. This time around, the portkey was shaped like an old boot. The laces, brown and worn, lay at either side of the untied shoe, the heals ripping from years of use. “Do we really have to touch that… thing?” you heard Ginny ask. You had befriended the youngest Weasley during your second year. Over the years of sleepovers in her room with Hermione, the three of you were inseparable. You stifled a giggle under the harsh glare from your father, but Arthur Weasley thought it was just as entertaining.

“Nonsense, Gin. You want to go to the game, don’t you?” He said, his usual grin plastered on his face. “Alright everyone, place one finger onto the boot. It’s scheduled to leave in 2 minutes.” Arthur placed one finger on the boot’s sole, and everyone followed suit. Ginny spent a few seconds trying to find the cleanest spot on the boot. You, Hermione, and Harry laugh at her as she ends up using her sleeve to touch the boot instead.

“Hang on tight everyone,” your dad said. You notice Harry and Hermione sharing a confused look.

“Have you guys ever travelled by portkey before?” you ask. Your father, being important in the Ministry, meant that you and Cedric travelled with him many times by portkey, and were quite familiar with it by now. Harry shook his head, glancing between you and Arthur. Harry barely had time to question the smirk forming on your face before the portkey activated.

For you, the portkey reminded you of the fun attraction that was always at the fair the muggles held every summer. The spinning had become enjoyable for you, the type of high you get from a rollercoaster. For your friends, however, the spinning reminded them of being trapped in a blender, neither fun nor enjoyable.

The portkey came to a halt in a forest, a half hour walk from the stadium. You, Cedric, and all of the parents landed upright on your feet, having known the way to land. Your friends on the other hand managed to land either straight on their backs or right on their faces. The land was so rough for Harry, that his glasses flew off, landing right beside your feet.

You grabbed the frames and offered a hand to Harry, helping him stand before returning the glasses. “Thanks Bridgette,” Harry said, rubbing the dirt off his lenses with the hem of his shirt. The group had already headed off without you, so the two of you hurried to catch up.

* * *

After what seemed like hours of walking, the group finally reached the edge of the forest, next to a field littered with tents of various shapes and sizes. Your dad waved goodbye before splitting off from the group, Cedric in tow. You sighed. You love the Weasley’s so much, and sometimes feel more a part of their family than your own, but you wished your dad gave you the attention Cedric received. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you continued walking with the Weasley’s, weaving around tents.

The group came to a halt at what seems like the only open plot left in the field. Before you could ask about a tent, Arthur pulled a small bag out of his pocket. You watch as he rests it on the ground before stepping back. With a wave of his wand, the bag expanded into a tent, one that looked like it definitely wouldn’t fit everyone.

Ron apparently had the same thoughts as you. “How is it we’re expected to all fit in… that?” You glanced at everyone else, already thinking about who you would be stuck sleeping next to, before returning your attention to Arthur. Without saying anything, he smiled and walked into the tent, expecting you all to follow. Deciding to be the brave one among the Gryffindor’s, you headed inside first.

The interior was a sight to behold. The ceilings were lofted, and a good 6 feet higher than what it appears to be on the outside. There were also separate rooms within the tent, including bunk beds, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Immediately, the rest of the gang flooded into the common area from behind you. You smiled to yourself, knowing this was going to be way better than sitting with your dad.

After about an hour or so of getting settled, arguing over who got the bottom bunks, and getting your faces painted, Arthur was herding everyone out of the tent to start the walk towards the stadium. The biggest quidditch pitch you have seen was the one at Hogwarts, so nothing could prepare you for the size of the World Cup.

There had to have been hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards, all repping either orange or green. Per the twins’ request, you were decked out in Irish gear, along with most of the Weasley’s. Ron seemed to be the only one interested in cheering for the Cannon’s, and while you didn’t follow professional quidditch like them, you couldn’t resist teasing him along with his brothers.

The stairs to the seats you all had were utterly dreadful, but judging by the amount of important looking people, you figured these had to be some of the best seats. Arthur ushered everyone into the row at the edge of the Top Box, where you noticed the Minister himself already seated. Cornelius Fudge was a man nearly everyone seemed to despise. His actions within the Ministry of Magic were only for the benefit of himself or those around him. Luckily for you, the Weasley’s were on good terms at the Ministry. Fudge rose from his seat to greet Arthur, when you heard him say something that made your blood chill.

“Ah, there you are Lucius. You guys have met the Weasley’s, yes?” You, Harry, Hermione, and Ron froze at the mention of Draco’s father. Everyone slowly turned their heads, only to be met with the platinum haired Slytherin himself.

Draco snarled at Harry, his eyes flitting over everyone before stopping at you. You held his eye contact for a second before they snapped back to his father. Unfortunately for you, the Malfoy’s seats were in the row behind you, and it wasn’t a coincidence that Draco chose the seat that would be easiest to kick during the game. You didn’t have the same relationship with him that the others had. While Draco and Harry utterly despised each other, and the Weasley’s weren’t fond of them either, whatever was between you and him was different. He never seemed to hate you, but merely tolerate you. It was as if he only irritated you in front of others.

Thoughts of Draco were pushed out of your mind as the game started. In order to keep Fred and George on your side, as thoughts of pranks in the tent were not ideal, you jumped and cheered whenever they did. While you didn’t enough play the game of quidditch as much as others, you really enjoyed watching it. Ireland scored once again and a sea of green erupted from the stands, bringing the score up to 60-20, and you were thankful that you listened to the twins earlier. The night couldn’t get any better than this.


	3. Things Didn't Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the World Cup

After the game, you all headed back to the tent, eager to get away from the Malfoy’s and into bed. For some reason, Draco felt it necessary to kick the back of your chair whenever he felt like it, and no matter how many times you glared at him in frustration or kindly asked him to stop, nothing seemed to get him to waiver. The game only lasted two hours, but the inconsistent thumping against your seat made it feel like ages. It didn’t help that the excitement of Ireland winning the cup wore off on the trek back. You finally headed into the tent, Fred and George tailing behind.

It was as if the twins knew when you were going to bail out of whatever scheme they planned, as they always found a way to drag you back in. This time was no exception, and before you could even tell them the hell Draco had put you through, they were already dragging you into the main area, where Harry and Hermione consoled a grumpy Ron. The twins wasted no time grabbing the champaign Arthur let you guys bring and began shaking it wildly. The pressure buildup within the bottle burst through the opening, launching the cork into the air. The boys let out a whoop and started dancing around you all, taking every moment to poke Ron in the cheek when they passed.

You felt your chest tense and tighten as you fell to the ground, releasing an ear-piercing laugh. There was a reason the twins were some of your best friends, and this was one of them. Without fail, they always cheer you up whenever they see you. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you sat up, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater.

Before you could compose yourself enough to join in on their antics, a scream rang out from outside. The silence in the tent sent chills down your body, and you quickly rose to your feet and headed towards the entrance of the tent. Before any of you could peek outside, Arthur came running into the tent, followed by the sound of something eerily similar to gunfire.

“We need to go.” Arthur ran around grabbing the essentials, including the portkey. He shrunk it down and tossed it to Fred. “Now. Grab the portkey and stick together. Get to the forest, we will meet up there.” Without another word, Arthur left and returned to whatever chaos was going on outside.

George grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him and Fred. “You’re coming with us, you three go together. It’ll be easier to escape unnoticed in a smaller group.” If there was a reply to George’s comment, you didn’t get a chance to hear it as the twins had dragged you out of the tent. What was left of the field was ash and pieces of fabric from various tents. Fire surrounded the main area, and was quickly closing in. The smoke was beginning to move your way, so the three of you wasted no time retreating towards the forest.

* * *

It wasn’t long before the creators of this mess had cornered you, the sight alone of their gold masks was enough to make your blood run cold. You counted four of the Death Eaters, that were now closing in on you, their black cloaks concealing everything about their identity from you.

Fred acted quickly, pulling out one of his and George’s many untested products. This one was supposed to release a thick black smoke when activated, though the last few trials of it nearly killed all of us. Before either George or I could react, Fred flung the small sphere at the ground, right between the two Death Eaters blocking the path to the forest. Black smoke began to quickly fill the air, and within seconds, the smog was so thick you couldn’t your own nose. Fred’s grip on your arm tightened and tugged you forward, and soon you were at the edge of the forest. Quickly, the three of you ran into the cover of the trees, and only after putting a reasonable amount of space between you and the field did you slow to a halt.

“What was that? What just happened?” you asked, struggling to catch your breath. Each inhale felt like ice penetrating your lungs, the cool rush of wind almost choking you.

“Death Eaters. You-Know-Who’s followers,” Fred replied.

“Didn’t you see the Dark Mark in the sky?” George asked you, taking a seat on the cold ground. The look of confusion you gave him was enough of an answer, and the twins started explaining the history of You-Know-Who and his followers. After a bit of explanation, you started to understand it a little better. “Why didn’t you know that already though, Bridge? Your family is pureblood.”

“I…” you started, thinking back to your childhood. “I don’t know.” From what it seems, you couldn’t recall even a single time You-Know-Who’s rise to power was even brought up outside of school. It was as if it didn’t even happen, as if your parents were oblivious to the whole war.

“Sounds rather odd if you ask me, Diggory.” Without even needing to turn around, you knew exactly who was eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Draco. What do you want,” you asked, turning your attention to the blonde leaning against a tree a few yards behind you. “Better yet, what are you even doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Saint Potter was just here a moment ago, along with the blood traitor and the mudblood, and yet you three were nowhere to be found. Sounds rather, suspicious if you ask me,” he responded, turning his gaze towards the explosion sounding in the distance. The sudden blast startled you, causing Draco to laugh at you.

“There’s nothing more suspicious than you,” George said.  
“watching this chaos alone,” Fred continued.  
“in the middle of a forest.” They said together.

“Watch it Weasels. What I do is none of your business.” Draco eyes suddenly met yours, as if searching your head for your thoughts on the subject.

“Please stop. Let’s just go,” you said to the twins, but your eyes stayed locked on Draco’s. It wasn’t until Fred grabbed your hand to pull you onward that you broke the connection. It took all of the power in you not to turn around and watch him as you walked, knowing he was still burning a hole in the back of your head with how intensely he watched.

* * *

The three of you finally found the others and activated the portkey back home. Everyone landed with a thud outside of the Burrow, the wheat growing in the field only sort of breaking the fall. Molly rushed over and gave everyone hugs, including you. Not wanting to relive the experience, you excused yourself and headed up to the Ginny’s room. You and Hermione both had small beds squeezed in there. Normally, every night was fun and full of gossip and memories, but everyone just wanted the night to end.

Without even changing, you crawled into your bed and grabbed your blanket, tugging it over your shoulders as you rolled into it. The fluffy lining cradling your body like a hug. The blanket had been a gift to you from your mom on your tenth birthday. The blanket was intended for a king size bed, so even now you were still swimming in it. It was the last gift you ever received from her before her death. Now, more than ever, do you wish she was here with you. You imagined the blanket was her, holding you close to her.

Laying here in the dark, you began to notice how badly you felt. At one point you fell in the forest while running, and it seemed to be doing a number on you: your body felt as if it was one giant bruise. Closing your eyes made it feel as though the pain was spreading to every untouched area. Flashes of green light and fire rang out in your mind, like each explosion.  
The masks, the masks were awful. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something about the design in each one made you shiver. The cold metal shook you to your core.

The one thing that didn’t seem to spiral you into a panic was the calming grey eyes that stared at you. Draco’s.  
You still aren’t sure what happened when you ran into him. Normally, your interactions with him were insulting or infuriating, but this one was different. You couldn’t figure out what the emotion in the air was, but you did know it was meant for you only. The difference between talking to you versus the twins was ridiculous, but they didn’t seem to notice.  
It does seem a bit silly that the thing I focus on was the energy between Draco and I, you thought, but at the same time, his eyes were so captivating that you couldn’t help it. And it was those thoughts of grey that eventually lulled you to sleep.


	4. Start of Term

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: RAPE / NON-CON

You can’t remember a time the Hogwarts Express felt as though time had stopped, but this term already felt different. The events of the World Cup only happened last week, and yet the energy to talk about what had happened is still missing. Fred and George have tried several times to get you to talk to them to no avail. You were beginning to think that they thought something was wrong with you. Or maybe you just weren’t sure if there was something to be bothered by. Whatever it was hasn’t gone unnoticed, as Hermione had slipped into your compartment only 10 minutes ago but has yet to say anything.

The rain outside was beating down hard against the train, the drops seemingly racing each other down the slanted window. You found a drop that stuck out to you and watched it slowly slide into smaller ones, building up size and speed as it moved along. Your focus was quickly drawn back to Hermione, who sighed quietly across from you. Finally, you caved. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” she replied, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“’Mione, you didn’t have to say anything. You’ve been sitting here in silence for over 10 minutes now. I know the boys sent you in to talk to me,” you started, directing your attention back to the window. “It’s just, I don’t even know what’s wrong. I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Bridgette, you’ve been dead silent since we got back to the Burrow that night. Something must have happened in between splitting up and getting back to the portkey.”

“That’s just the thing Hermione! There was nothing out of the ordinary that happened,” you said, mainly just trying to convince yourself. You turned to face her, shoving your hands into your jacket pocket. 

“Why don’t you just tell me everything that happened?”

“Well,” you started, shifting in your seat. “Fred and George led me out of the tent, and we ran. We were almost out of the field and into the forest when a group of them surrounded us. Someone threw a Weasley Twin product and we escaped into the woods. We briefly saw Draco, and then we found you lot.” Hermione’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her skull.

“Well no wonder you’re acting like this.” She said, shaking her head. “Malfoy was outright horrible when he found us. I’m sure he was nothing but a massive twat when he saw you guys.”

You didn’t want to explain that he actually wasn’t a prick to you specifically, especially given your friend group’s views of the guy. He was known for many things and being nice wasn’t one of them. If any of your Gryffindor friends found out about the real interaction you shared, or how you couldn’t get his piercing grey eyes out of your head, they would surely think he was using you in some way.

Hermione seemed to have taken your silence as confirmation that she was correct, and she quietly excused herself out of the train compartment. You knew she was running off to tell Ron and Harry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. Sighing, you returned your attention to the rain beating hard against the window and wished the train would arrive sooner.

___

The sorting ceremony was over before you could even realize it started. Normally, the first feast of the year was one of your favorites, as the sight of all the food magically appearing before you never seemed to get old. However, you couldn’t even bring yourself to eat as thoughts of worry and dread filled your stomach.

Over the years, your rivalry with Draco was anything but ordinary, considering his usual actions with the Golden Trio. He never seemed to push boundaries with you, almost as if he respected you. If anything, your hatred for each other was mutually fake. It seemed as though the banter the two of you exchanged was intense and heated for onlookers, but between the two of you it was merely jabs for fun. Neither of you pushed boundaries, and neither of you want the other person to hurt in anyway.

It was the fact that he didn’t say anything that was bothering you. Aside from using your last name, he didn’t even really address you, which was unlike him. The issue was you couldn’t figure out _why_ that bothered you. A sigh escaped your lips as you continued pushing around the food on your plate.

Normally, you were surrounded by your friends at the Hufflepuff table, but this time you sat alone. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too noticeable if you left for the dorms early. Slowly, you looked away from your food and started scanning the room.

When your eyes got to the Slytherin table, you found the same grey eyes that have been making you restless staring back at you. For a moment, neither of you moved, as though you were both trying to see who would react first. It seemed like you were holding eye contact for ages before your view was suddenly obstructed by someone standing in front of you.

Your eyes slowly traveled up the blue robes and into the eyes of none other than Tristen Eaton. Before he even had the chance to say anything, you were out of your seat and heading towards the doors of the Great Hall. “Bridge, wait-,” Tristen started after you.

“I have nothing to say to you,” you replied, not even bothering to glance in his direction. You were almost through the doors when a hand roughly yanked you back, causing you to stumble a bit.

“No.” Tristen grip on your wrist tightened as he talked, his eyes darkening. “You can’t just stop talking to me. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact. The noise from dinner making you barely audible.

“Speak up when you’re talking to me.” At this point, Tristen’s grip on your wrist was unbearable, and you tried to free yourself from his grip to no avail.

“Leave me alone,” you said, a little louder this time. Without answering, Tristen dragged you through the doors and out into the hall. Panic began to set in as the memory of last time set in.

___

It was the end of last year. The two of you had only been dating for a month or so, and to others, you seemed happy together.

You weren’t sure how it happened. One minute, the two of you were play fighting in the Ravenclaw common room, and the next he was dragging you into his dorm.

He was two years older than you, and his prefect status gave him a room all to himself. Tristen had all but thrown you onto the bed, his lust filled eyes raking up and down your body. You had tried to leave the room, but he was one step ahead of you, already sending a non-verbal _incarcerous_ your way. Before you even realized what was about to happen, thick black ropes knotted their way around your wrists and ankles, binding you in place.

You remembered begging him to stop as he advanced on you. The rope made it impossible to move. Within seconds, his lips were on yours, and his hands made their way around your waist. He slid one hand up your shirt and under your bra, cupping your breast. With the other, he grabbed your hip, holding you in place.

“Just relax,” you heard him whisper into your ear as he yanked the collar of your shirt, ripping it in half. You tried to push him off, but Tristen just climbed on top of you, pinning your hips to the bed. He then grabbed your throat tightly, cutting off the screams you tried to release. His grip only tightened against your neck as you struggled. He had managed to rip your bra off as well, and was now leaving marks across your chest, failing to notice you gasping for breath. You felt your vision go fuzzy, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was the feeling of your skirt being lifted.

___

The way Tristen dragged you down the empty corridor outside the Great Hall sent you back to last year. You felt the panic rising in your chest as you struggled to get away from him. “Scream all you want. Everyone is at the feast.” He continued down the corridor and towards the 1st floor girl’s bathroom. Fear set in when you realized that no one would find you two in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, and Tristen seemed to know this too. You resisted against his grip, using all of your weight to try and stop him from moving any further.

The muscle’s in his arm tensed up, and before you could react, Tristen grabbed your face tightly, and slammed you into the nearest wall.

“Stop making a scene. We are going to talk whether you like it or not,” he said, sliding his hand down, his fingers now wrapping around your neck. Your eyes glazed over, the thought of last time fresh in your mind, as if it happened yesterday. You stifled a whimper, for fear he would react poorly. “You owe me this.”

“Last time I checked, Diggory doesn’t owe you shit.” Tristen’s grip loosened a bit but remained around your throat. You saw anger surge in his eyes before he turned his attention away from you, and onto Draco.

“Malfoy. This doesn’t concern you,” Tristen said, glaring back at me. You watched in the corner of your eyes as Draco made his way over: the anger in Tristen’s eyes were nothing compared to the raw fury behind Draco’s eyes.

Tristen had no time to react before Draco’s fist was colliding with his nose, one of his rings ripping the skin below his eyebrow open. Blood trickled down Tristen’s face from both his nose and the cut.

The combination of being caught off guard and being punched with all the hatred Draco had him was enough to remove his grip from you.

Draco wiped the blood from Tristen’s face off on the sleeve of his robes before grabbing your hand, pulling you back towards the Great Hall. He took great care to make sure he was between you and Tristen as you walked away.

“This isn’t over Diggory,” he started, but Draco just kept leading you away from him. It wasn’t until the two of you were near the doors when he asked if you were okay. Not wanting to relive the events of the last few minutes, you just nodded in response. Without another word, the two of you returned to the feast, each of you returning to your table.

Your dorm mate noticed you enter and waved you over, excited to share the details of her summer with you. You sat beside her while she rambled about her family’s vacation to the States, but you found it hard to focus. With the newfound experiences involving Draco and the awful encounter with Tristen, you had way too much on your mind to pay attention to whatever she was telling you.

With a sigh to yourself, you hoped dinner would end soon, eager to crawl into bed and forget everything about today.


	5. NOT AN UPDATE SORRY

Hello!! Sorry for not updating in a while! School is getting intense rn and I have to put the story aside for now, but rest assured I am still working on it, just slowly ;(

I will be updating next week since I start break. Let me know if there's anything you want to see!


	6. A Party of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a while to upload, i hit bad writer's block with this chapter, i have no idea why. Rest assured this story is not abandoned, it just might be irregularly uploaded, okay pls dont hate me i hope u like it, if u see any errors lmk!
> 
> i have a bad habit of not proof reading anything i write (don't tell my english professors lol)

That night in your dorm, sleep did not come easy. Not only was your mind racing from the interaction with Tristen, but also with what happened with Draco. It made sense that he saw you leave with Tristen, as the two of you were basically having a staring contest before your ex dragged you out of the Great Hall. You just couldn’t figure out why he stepped in to save you, let alone follow you out.

These thoughts were still in your head when you left the dorm for breakfast the next morning. You had just stepped through the door before you were ambushed by two red heads.

“Bloody hell, you guys can’t do that,” you said, the sudden appearance of your best friends shook you out of your thoughts. George wrapped his arm around you, placing his hand on your shoulder. Before you could question them further, he started pushing you down the corridor, in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. “Fred! George! Where are we going?”

The twins ignored you as they dragged you down the hall, and towards the Gryffindor common room. The fat lady’s portrait was known for giving attitude to anyone outside of her house who tried to enter, but over the years she has grown to like you. When she saw you approaching with the twins, she waved excitedly at you.

“Bridgette! It’s so wonderful to see you dear. Would you like to hear the song I’ve been working on?”

“Not today, we have a very important matter to attend to,” Fred responded first.

“Very important matter indeed,” George added. You shot the fat lady an apologetic look.

“I’ll come back later today to listen, I promise,” you said as the boys told her the password. She smiled at you and nodded, before opening the entrance to the common room. The three of you stepped through and headed to the back corner of room. “What’s this all about?” you asked as you settled into the couch.

Fred and George sat at the edge of the coffee table, sharing a glance before turning to you.

“We need your help throwing a party,” they said in unison. You’d never admit it, but this was your favorite thing that they did. It was just so fascinating to see their thoughts link up like that. You smiled in thought.

“That sounds exciting, but what could I possibly do for you that you can’t do yourself?”

“That’s the thing Bridgey!” Fred said. “You’re the only one who knows where the location is!”

“What do you mean by that?” The twins exchange a look before turning back to you.

“Remember the secret room you discovered last year?”

“The one where-,” George continued before being cut off by you.

“I remember,” you said, your eyes glazed over as the memory started resurfacing. Last year, when leaving Tristen’s that night. A door appeared in the corridor you were walking down, and even at Hogwarts, doors don’t just appear to specific people. As Hermione told you later that week, it turns out you had discovered the Room of Requirement. Before you could delve deeper into what the room held for you, Fred snapped your attention back to the present. “Sorry,” you said, jolting out of your stare. “What about the room?”

“We were wondering if you could find it again for us,” George said. With the puppy dog eyes the two of them were giving you, you just couldn’t say no.

“Well, alright. But what’s in it for me?” you asked. Knowing the Weasley twins, you knew they would do anything for you, especially if you’re doing something to help them.

“It’s a surprise for now, but not to worry Bridgette, my dear,” Fred said, as the three of you turned to leave Gryffindor Tower. “This is going to be the best surprise we’ve ever given you, if we can manage to pull it off…” he trailed off as he stepped through the portrait.

“Well, that doesn’t sound concerning in the slightest,” you sighed, and followed them towards the Great Hall. While the conversation only took a couple of minutes, it felt like hours. Your stomach growled at the thought of all the food waiting for you.

“C’mon now, Bridgette. When have we ever put you in a situation you ended up regretting?” George said, slinging his arm back around you. He pushed through the doors and started guiding you towards the Gryffindor table.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I do,” you said, settling down at the table. George took the seat to your left, while Fred sat across from you. Even though you guys were seemingly late to breakfast, there seemed to be no one here. Aside from a few second years, the Gryffindor table was virtually empty. “Pass me the bacon please, I’m starving.”

“Building up strength for the party later, are we?” Fred joked as he handed you the platter. The bacon was perfectly crispy, and the fattier parts were just chewy enough, the way you liked it. You made a mental note to stop by the kitchens later to thank the house elves. Hermione had recruited you for SPEW during your first year, and since then you’ve made many trips down to the kitchens for late night chats, to deliver gifts, or to simply keep them company while you worked on schoolwork.

“Shut up Fred,” you said, piling the bacon on your plate. Fred was about to retort when your favorite trio plopped down around you. “Where have you lot been?”

“Oh, you know, the boys were taking ages to get ready,” Hermione responded as she settled next to you. Both her and Harry’s faces were tinted red, as if they had been working out before breakfast. You also noticed Hermione breathing a little heavy.

“Oh, really?” you questioned, “Fred, George, and I were just in the tower and we didn’t see you guys, or else we would’ve waited.”

“Because it took Harry and I a while to get Ronald out of bed.” Hermione shot Ron a glare at this. Everyone knows Hermione only uses Ron’s full name when she’s upset, so with a glance at the twins, you dropped it. A few moments passed before everyone fell into comfortable small talk about classes, Hogsmeade, and what everyone did over summer. What you didn’t notice was the small nod Hermione gave Draco as he entered. You also didn’t notice the fresh cuts on Tristen’s face as he sat down with the other Ravenclaws, cuts that definitely weren’t made by Draco last night. It wasn’t long before the food began to vanish, and students began to dissipate.

You said your goodbyes to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before heading out the Great Hall, the twins in tow. You only just made it into the hallway before you heard someone shout in your direction.

“Diggory,” Draco said, making his way over to you. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I, um- yeah,” you stuttered. This behavior was way out of character for Draco, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. You also weren’t sure what to make of the twins not reacting to this either. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Draco only nodded in response before turning on his heels, heading back towards the Great Hall. ‘Did he leave breakfast just to come see if I was okay?’ you thought. You looked back at Fred and George, expecting to see a look of confusion similar to yours, but as it turns out they weren’t even paying attention to what had just happened. They took turns chatting amongst themselves, as if they were oblivious to the short but awkward interaction that just took place in front of them.

Like last night’s events, you pushed this one out of your mind and continued dragging the twins up the stairs, and to the Room of Requirement.


	7. The Room of Requirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heyyy i know i've kept u in suspense for so long, but this is another filler chapter. The next chapter will be the party tho and boy to i have some plot drivers for you hehehehe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IM SO SORRY IM AWFUL AT UPDATING. PLEASE YELL AT ME IN THE COMMENTS TO UPDATE !!! I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR READING!

The corridor where the Room of Requirement resides was nearly deserted, aside from a few first years, clearly confused about which way to go. After stopping to give them directions to the Great Hall, you turned to the twins, who had been mocking you helping the lost students. “It’s like you idiots don’t want me to help you,” you said, turning on your heel back towards the way you came. 

“Bridgette, wait,” George said, grabbing your wrist. “We were only joking.”

‘Yeah, Bridgey, we need your help to pull this off,” Fred said, mimicking the puppy dog eyes his twin was giving you. “Plus, we have the biggest surprise for you yet.”

“And I suppose I won’t be getting this surprise unless I help you, correct?” you slowly made your way back to the two sixth years, who seemed to tower over you. It would seem the size difference between you three would be intimidating for you, yet those who knew your dynamic with the twins knew who really held the power in this friendship. “How do I know this surprise is really worth my time?”

“Why would we lie to you, you’re our best friend,” George said, slinging his arm over you as you reached them. 

“Have we ever misguided you before?” 

You took a moment to consider what they were saying. Without a word, you pushed past them and continued down the corridor towards the Room of Requirement. You smiled to yourself as you heard the boys whisper excitedly to each other before running after you. 

By the time they caught up, you were stopped at a huge, blank wall. Before they could ask any questions, you held up your hand and closed your eyes, concentrating on what you need.

The door that slowly appeared was similar to the other ones in the corridor; very tall, almond brown finish and black metal adorning the sides in twists and turns, almost like ivy frozen in place. The doorknob was the only difference and was one only noticeable when looking. Instead of the usual rustic gold, the knob was copper, and had a small hole in the front for the key, as opposed to a keyhole below. You doubt the twins noticed this, and before you could confirm your suspicions, they both rushed into the room ahead.

You had to admit, you’ve outdone yourself. The room looked similar to the Gryffindor common room, except instead of the traditional red and gold, the walls were adorning various colors from all four houses. 

The couches were a deep purple velvet, and the side tables were black as night, decorated with neon pieces of confetti and mini lanterns, enchanted with a never-ending flame. In the center of the room was a dance floor and muggle music set up with the biggest speakers you’ve ever seen. The room even had a drink table, including what seems like every wizard alcohol in existence. In the back of the room, several hallways were leading off to small, single bedrooms. You convinced yourself this was the room taking care of intoxicated students, but you knew otherwise their true purpose. 

After glancing over everything, you turned to the twins. 

“You guys seriously owe me,” you said, before heading towards the corridor. 

As the door closed behind you, the twins shouted their thanks along with a few phrases you couldn’t quite make out. You smiled to yourself as you thought of the party tonight, and the memories you wanted to make with your friends, before heading back towards the common room.


End file.
